


White Pine Bay Chronicles: Sarah, Joey and Miranda

by scarsgirl



Series: White Pine Bay Chronicles [3]
Category: Bates Motel (2013), Hannibal (TV), The Following
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Not Beta Read, POV Multiple, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1836184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarsgirl/pseuds/scarsgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in White Pine Bay is rocked by two new residents and the history they can't escape.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i> If you're still reading this series, thanks! I know some are probably turned off by all the fandoms covered, but I have enjoyed writing them, so I figured someone else might like them too.<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third in a series so you should read those first. The notes at the beginning of those stories apply to this one to, so I won't repeat them here.

“Thanks, Will!” Captain Stewart waved to him from the deck as Will disembarked. He had a pocket full of money and an aching back, but had managed after two days of hard work, to get the engines of ‘The Cap’s Seat’ back in working order. He couldn’t wait to get home to a hot shower and dinner. His stomach rumbled at the thought. Stewart had given him a bologna sandwich and a bag of chips around noon, but that had been nearly 6 hours ago. He could stop and get something at Sal’s, but Hannibal was sure to have dinner ready by the time he got home and he was sure to catch hell if he showed up with no appetite. 

His hunger pushed him down the dock and past the temptation of Sal’s fish and chips and on through the evening dinner crowd that had gathered to eat and socialize there at the end of the day. The crowd thinned out as he passed by the scattered tables and chairs. He had almost made it to the stairs that led to the parking lot when he saw him. 

He only noticed the boy because he’d seen him recently, not two weeks ago as a matter of fact, standing on Hannibal’s doorstep one morning as Will had been heading out for the day. Finding strangers coming to their door at that time of the day would have been an incident to note on any day, but the fact that group consisted of Sheriff Massett, a very attractive, if distressed-looking, woman and a 10 year child had made the incident stick in his mind all day. When he had asked Hannibal about their visitors later that evening, he’d said that the child, Joey, was in need of therapy and that Sheriff Massett had simply asked him to provide services to the boy as a personal favor.

He’d wanted to probe further, but Will found that he generally slept better if he didn’t think too much about the favors Hannibal did for Sheriff Massett. Said kid was now sitting with his knees on the pier, next to a discarded fishing pole and struggling with a fish. Will had just opened his mouth to offer the boy a hand when the angle of the child’s shoulders changed. Will’s instincts lit up and he sped forward. 

“Joey!” He barked out causing the boy to startle. He was too late to stop the boy from poking the first eye out, but had managed to distract Joey in time to stop him from going for the other. The small fish took the opportunity to flip his body against the wooden dock sending himself flying back into the freedom and safety of the murky water below. 

“I wasn’t...,” The boy started as he stood and turned. The look on Joey’s face told him that the boy didn’t recognize him. Will could feel the child’s rising panic as he started walking backwards, preparing to flee. “It’s okay, Joey. I’m a friend of Dr. Fell.” 

Will could see that Joey was still wary, but he seemed to calm at the mention of Hannibal’s name, well, Hannibal’s fake name. “You?” Joey squinted his eyes as he looked Will over. “I, uh... I remember seeing you there, I think.” Joey shifted from one foot the other, “He said you were his partner. Like his boyfriend, right?”

“Uhm, yes, I guess that’s what you would call us.” Will had to know. “Why were you talking to Dr. Fell about me?”

“My mom asked. She wanted to make sure you were okay for me to be around.”

“Okay?” Will wondered how she would feel about having her son in the room with a mass murderer. “Why wouldn’t it be okay for you to be around me?”

Joey swallowed and turned his face down, “Some people took me once. We thought they were friends, but they weren’t.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Joey,” Will bent down to pick up the fishing pole and held it out for Joey to take. He made sure to leave enough room between them that Joey would feel comfortable taking the rod from Will’s hand.

“Thanks,” Joey said shyly as he put his hand out to take the pole.

“Joey!” Will felt a body pass close to him at a run. A woman he recognized as Joey’s mother rounded on him, putting her body between Joey and Will’s -her outstretched hand held up in a defensive posture. Will felt a wave of guilt wash over him when he saw the terrified determination in the woman’s face.

“Mommm!” Joey said, embarrassed. 

“Who are you?” The woman demanded.

“I’m...,” Will began only to be cut off by Joey’s irritated voice.

“That’s Dr. Fell’s boyfriend. Remember, we saw him the other day? Dr. Fell said he was okay, jeez!”

The boy seemed to trust Hannibal’s opinion already. Will knew that the one-eyed fish had learned a lesson, but had Joey?

“I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, Ms., but I’m Will Graham. I saw Joey fishing,” He and Joey’s eyes met in silent agreement that they would keep the truth of their interaction private for now, “and stopped to say, ‘Hi’. I didn’t mean to scare you?”

“Sarah, Sarah James,” The woman relaxed slightly as she spoke. Will’s gaze traveled over Ms. James. She seemed wrong –everything from her hair color, to her makeup to her clothing seemed out of sync with the woman before him. She was obviously trying very hard to become someone else, someone not… Claire Matthews. He could see it now, though he doubted many others would despite the fact that her face had been all over the news last winter after her ex-husband escaped from prison and she had been murdered by a member of his cult.

Will had no intention of outing the woman, so he held out his hand palm side up in greeting. “Ms. James, it’s nice to meet you.” Will said as she shook his hand quickly. Will threw his thumb up over his shoulder, “Enjoying some Sal’s?” He said with, what he hoped was, a genuine-looking smile.

Ms. Matthews moved to her son’s side, putting a hand around his shoulder, “Yeah, some of the girls from work said it was a tradition in White Pine Bay, so we came down and Joey wanted to go fishing.” She held her hand out for the pole that Will hadn’t realized was still in his hand. He gave it to her awkwardly. There was a part of him that wanted to offer her a bit of his history in an effort to make her more comfortable, but considering his own shady history with serial killers, one in particular, he decided to keep his mouth shut for now.

“Well, I need to head home,” Will fidgeted with his toolbox as he spoke, “So, it was nice to see you Joey and uh, Sarah. Enjoy your Sal’s.” Will said, picking up his pace as he walked past Joey and his mother. 

Treating Norman was one thing, but a child as traumatized as Joey, who’d seen that level of violence... Abigail’s face flashed before him. He hadn’t seen her since she’d run away from him in Minnesota. He had believed her dead until Hannibal had confessed to sending her to Rio to start a new life. A generous act that Hannibal had used as a distraction while he constructed a rather elaborate escape that still had agents searching the world for him. Will was lucky though, he didn’t have to search the world if he wanted to talk to Hannibal, all he had to do was go home.

________________________________________________________________________

Hannibal had been patient with Will all evening. Will appreciated the effort -really. He knew he was acting off and he knew that Hannibal knew he was acting off, but Hannibal giving him time to process what he had to say and when he choose to say it. 

He had originally thought to confront Hannibal the moment he came through the door, instead they had shared a meal, took the dogs for a long walk and shared a glass of wine while getting ready for bed. Hannibal's patience had paid off for both of them. Now he was ready to talk calmly.

“I saw your new patient today,” Hannibal closed the book he had been reading, shoeing Riki away when he tried to jump on the bed as Will approached Hannibal. 

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” Hannibal said as he sat back against their headboard and folded his hands in his lap.

“Yes and no,” Will said as he crawled onto the bed and over to Hannibal. Hannibal lifted his hands to provide Will room to move as he threw one leg over Hannibal’s hips and settled across his thighs. 

Hannibal’s hands came to rest on Will’s hips as he looked into Will’s eyes, inviting him to continue with a nod. “He was fishing on the dock today and I just happened to see him poking the eye out of a fish. Which normally wouldn’t be a big deal, children can be cruel, but he’s obviously been traumatized and...”

“…And you wish to know if I am influencing him in his morbid curiosities?”

Will came forward, cupping Hannibal’s face, scratching his fingers lightly through the beard he’d come to love and looking deep into Hannibal’s eyes, “I chose you. I crawled into this life you made for me, for us, and gave myself over to it based on your word that you wouldn’t hurt anyone unless it was in defense of us or this town. You have to know that for me that includes turning children into serial killers.”

Hannibal ran his hands up and down Will’s thighs, considering, “You recognized him and his mother?”

“It took me a minute. WitSec, I’m assuming.”

“You assume correctly.”

“Isn’t that a little close for comfort?” Hannibal had always enjoyed having a close relationship with the people most dangerous to him, but he’d seemed content to leave the law enforcement of White Pine Bay alone unless called upon for assistance.

“Ms. James, as she now prefers to be called, is concerned that her son has been displaying some violent tendencies since his recovery from his father’s cult, but she doesn’t want an official record of having sought treatment for him. She confided her fears to Sheriff Massett and he brought her to me.” Hannibal gave him a moment to process before continuing, “I did not seek the child or his mother out, nor have I encouraged Joey’s explorations. I have simply spoken with him in an effort to help him process the trauma he has experienced. I have no interest in turning him into a killer.”

“You don’t have an interest, but that doesn’t mean that his time with Joe Carroll hasn’t turned him into a killer?”

“This is true. The child will need time to process and recover from Carroll’s manipulations, before such a thing could be determined.” Something about Hannibal’s tone niggled at the back of his mind.

“Wait? Are you…?” Will felt his brow scrunch is disbelief. “Are you jealous of Joe Carroll?”

Hannibal looked truly offended for a moment before reigning in his emotions. “Certainly not. If anything I owe him a debt of gratitude. Mr. Carroll and his followers absorbed many of the resources the FBI had been using in their search for me. His ego has allowed me a greater freedom of movement and a sense of ease.” Hannibal shifted pulling his attention from Will’s eyes to roam over his chest and groin, indicating that he was through with the topic and ready to move on the other business, but Will persisted nonetheless.

“You don’t like his style, do you? All that blood and poetry, but real no artistry.” 

Hannibal huffed, “Twisting the damaged children that followed him into mindless drones was no great feat. He simply took advantage of a few broken individuals to further his own agenda.”

“And what you did to Miriam and Abigail?”

“Made them stronger, better. Just as I did for you.”

“I do have to admit nearly being destroyed by the man I was falling in love with did provide me with a singular focus during my recovery.” Will hadn’t meant the words as a compliment to Hannibal, but he could see that he took them as such. 

Hannibal lifted his knees slightly, forcing Will to fall forward into his arms. Hannibal pressed his cheek to Will’s, the scruff of their beards rubbing and catching. “We could not have had this, had we not survived that,” Hannibal purred into his ear as his hands came around to cup Will's ass.

Will yelped as he was suddenly flipped over on to his back and looked up to Hannibal with a smile, opening his legs to allow Hannibal room to settle between them. “Now that you have brought up my patient I must confess I had considered consulting you regarding his recovery,” Hannibal punctuated his sentence with a gentle rock of his hips into Will’s groin.

Will spread his legs wider, bringing his knees up so that his calves rested against the back of Hannibal’s thighs, “Well, if you expect me to offer anything cognizant in the next few minutes you should probably ask me now.” 

Hannibal smiled down at him and brought their hips together slowly and with purpose, “I thought it might be beneficial to introduce Joey to Norman.”

Will was in the middle of rolling his hips into the hard line of Hannibal’s cock when his brain caught up to Hannibal’s words. He froze mid-movement and dropped his hips back onto the mattress. “You can’t be serious!” 

Hannibal followed him, melting into Will’s body. “Norman’s stalled therapeutically-speaking. I think helping Joey through his trauma may help him accept and move past some his own.”

“And Joey?”

“He’s developed a fascination with death and what it means. Norman could teach him a skill and show him what death is and its consequences.”

“You know as well as I do that many of the abused become abusers themselves.”

“Norman would never subject a child to what he had to endure. You know this as well as I do.”

Will had spent many hours in Norman and Norma’s company over the past year and his instinct told him that Norman, nor Norma, would hurt Joey, but he doubted even his professional opinion would do little to persuade Ms. Matthews.

“His mother will never allow him to spend time with a man who guts and stuffs animals for a living.”

“Claire Matthews is quite desperate. I think she can be persuaded.” Hannibal reasoned as he ran his palm down Will’s flank to grip his hip.

“You can be very persuasive.” Will tried to fight a smile as Hannibal brushed his nose along Will’s cheek, inhaling deeply as he slipped a hand between their bodies and pressed his palm against Will’s half-hard cock. Will arched into the touch instinctively.

“I’m very glad you think so.” Hannibal said, sounding so self-satisfied that Will had no choice but to drag him down for a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so here is the the second chapter. I decided to go ahead and post even though I'm not entirely happy with this chapter yet, but I was started to be afraid I would never post if I didn't move on. Once I have a few more chapters up I may revisit for a revision. Thanks, and enjoy!

“Okay, now we need to pick out the eyes. I usually try to find something close to the original eye color, but sometimes the client wants something a little different to make the piece stand out.” Norman said as he opened the tray he used to store his small animal eyes as Joey’s, “Whoa, Cool!” made him smile. He’d initially been resistant to the idea of having a child in the shop with him, but Dr. Lecter said that he thought Norman could help Joey and after all the help he’d gotten Norman couldn’t very well deny a helping hand to someone else. He didn’t regret the decision. He’d grown to care for Joey a great deal. The boy was smart, curious, not too squeamish nor too loud, and he had enough spunk to really annoy the heck out of Dylan.

“How do I look?” Joey held a set of bulbous fish eyes in front of his own. Norman snickered, “I definitely call it an improvement.” 

Joey dropped the eyes down, “Is not!”

“Here, we need something smaller.” Norman fingered the tray of eyes. “If we put those in people will think Mr. Hayes choked his fish to death.” 

Joey put the eyes back in the box turning his face away as he spoke and attempting to sound disinterested. “Is that what happens when you choke someone? Their eyes pop out?”

Norman shook his head, “No, not really. They bulge, I think, but they don’t pop out. That was a bad joke. Sorry.” 

“Oh,” Joey hesitated for a second, meeting Norman’s eyes hesitantly, “I saw something die once. They stuck it in a jar and it didn’t get enough air. Its eyes didn’t pop out either.”

“Uhm, do you wanna talk about what happened?” Dr. Lecter had said he shouldn’t push, just listen, if Joey chose to share any his past traumas with Norman. 

Joey shrugged, “It was scary and I didn’t want to do it.” He said biting his lip and dropping his eyes down. “I mean ...I didn’t want them to do it.”

A blinding rage filled Norman that made his vision go dark. It took everything in him to keep the blackness at bay, but Joey needed him now, not Norma’s mother-henning. He took a deep breath, “You know they had no right to do that to you, Joey. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s what mom says, but if it had been her, she wouldn’t have let them scare her. She would have said something and made them stop.”

“She might have, but your mom is a grown up and you’re a...” Norman could tell that Joey was getting ready to rebel at being called a child, so he covered quickly with, “...almost grown, but not yet, so the adults around you are supposed to help you, not scare you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

Joey pressed his lips together, poking a finger through the sets of eyes in the tray, “Is that what you’re doing? Helping me?”

Norman felt the anger that had been sitting in the back of his mind fade as a lightness filled his chest. He tried to keep his smile small. “Well, we’re friends and that’s what friends do, isn’t it? 

“Yeah, I guess,” Joey looked over to the digital clock Norman kept on his desk. Joey’s mother would be by to pick him up soon. “Here, let’s get the eyes in before your mom comes so we can show your mom all the work we did when she gets here.”

“Sure. That’d be cool.” Joey said as they moved back toward their worktable.

“So what do you think?” Norman held up two sets of eyes. “Yellow or mossy green?”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“So is the brat gone?” Dylan said as he looked high and low, making sure that Joey wasn’t lying in wait for him.

“Joey’s a great kid, don’t call him a brat.” Norman said tossing a bit of loose fur at his brother from his work table.

“Great, yeah right!" Dylan said batting the bit of fur away. "He’s a lucky kid. You know I could’ve shot him with that little stunt last week.”

Norman stood to put away his tools and trash as Dylan circled the room, “You would have shot a child for touching you with a stuffed bear claw?”

“No, but I would shoot a bear that was trying to take my leg off.”

“You used to say I was brat too,” Norman said as he looked around for the jacket he knew he’d worn in that morning. It had to be somewhere in this general vicinity...

“Here, Brat, I found your coat.” Dylan said pulling Norman’s coat out from under pile of papers Norman had been trying to organize earlier in the day. 

“I’m not a brat and neither is Joey,” Norman went to retrieve his coat from Dylan’s outstretched hand.

“But you on the other hand,” Norman said he voice going high and accusing as Dylan pulled the coat out of his reach just as Norman’s fingers brushed the fabric.

“Me on the other hand, what?” Dylan said putting the coat behind his back forcing Norman to reach his arms around his brother to try and retrieve his jacket. “You really should try growing up sometime, Dylan,” Norman said as they tussled around the shop playing the first game of keep away they’d played since Norman had his first growth spurt and it suddenly hadn’t been fun for Dylan anymore. 

Norman managed to reach around and lay hands on the coat several times, but Dylan was stronger and able to push Norman off using his hips until Norman managed to get him boxed in against one to the low work tables against the wall. They were laughing as Norman swiped at the coat again and Dylan tried to hip-checked Norman back, “Come on, Dylan, don’t be a jerk,” He wheezed.

“Oh, now I’m a brat and a jerk,” Dylan said doing a quick jerking movement with his shoulders that nearly toppled them both. Norman grabbed Dylan’s hands behind his back locking them in position in the small of his back. “It you don’t stop I’m getting your cuffs!” He teased.

Dylan’s huffed a low, “Kinky,” as he pushed his body into Norman's -attempting to reverse the tide of the battle.

The long roll of muscle against his body made Norman aware of the intimate arrangement of their bodies. It took him back to his first hazy memory of the day. It hadn’t been a waking up as much as a growing awareness that he was already awake or at least that Norma was awake. He had woken to see Dylan above him, leaning up on one shoulder as looked down at him. The sun shining through the window had turned Dylan's blonde hair into a sort of halo around his head. Norman had wanted to say something about knowing Dylan had a God Complex, but instead a soft moan had passed his lips. He’d experienced these dual states of consciousness before, but never while his brother’s hand was on his cock, slowly stroking him from root to tip. It had felt really good. 

So good that he’d retreated into his mind and shut the door till it had been time for him to go to work. Dylan had had to ask for him to come forward, which almost never happened to him in the morning anymore.

The memory of his brother’s touch sent a spike of pleasure through his midsection causing him to inhale sharply. He pulled back from Dylan like he was on fire, nearly toppling over his chair in a bid to put as much distance between them as possible. “Whoa, Norman! Did I hurt you?” Dylan said, grabbing his arm and trying to steady him. Norman pulled away from the touch trying to catch his breath. He could see his mother in the corner of the room ready to take over, but he shook his head trying his best to stay present. “No, I’m fine, just twisted my wrist.” 

“Oh, man. I’m sorry. Let me look at it?” Dylan stepped even closer to him.

“No, just give me my coat -you jerk!” He said as he forced out a laugh trying to cover his panic as he pulled away and busied himself righting his work chair. Dylan handed him the coat silently, concern making his jaw a hard line. He knew Norman wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but couldn’t figure out why.

“Let’s head home, then, I’m starving.” Dylan said confusion marring his features. There would have been a time that Dylan would have pushed him to talk to him or dragged him to Lecter's, but over the year's he had learned pushing only caused Norman to close off, not open up.

“Do you want Pizza? We'll stop and get your favorite on the way out of town." Dylan said, appeasing. Norman felt a pang of guilt at Dylan's offer. Dylan thought he had something to apologize for and was making a peace offering, even though it was Norman who was in the wrong.

“Sounds great!” Norman said cheerily, trying to relieve his brother's oft-guilty conscious. Norman had always hated the way Dylan took every problem he and Norma had as his own. It wasn't fair to either of them. 

Norman followed his brother out the door locking it behind them as they left the shop. He took a moment to catch a deep breath and calm himself down as Dylan waited for him by the truck.

God, his family was so fucked up.


	3. Chapter 3

Massett had been in a pissy mood for a week and it was about to drive her up the wall. She normally gave her boss his privacy and tried to keep her opinions to herself, but if he chided her one more time for some imagined offense, “Jesus, if I didn’t know better I would say you needed to get laid!”

Well, that came out less delicately than she’d meant it to. Way to go Crane.

Massett was looking at her from the driver’s seat -fury in his eyes.

“What? You’ve been on everyone’s ass all week. Jules has started hiding in the bathroom every time you come out of your office.”  
Massett shook his head, “Everything’s fine.”

“Oh, yeah, everything’s peachy.” She felt her anger deflate as the Sheriff ignored her in favor of strangling the steering wheel.

“Listen boss, if something’s wrong you know you can talk to me about it. I’m not saying I can help, but maybe if you get it off your chest?”

Massett adjusted his position, looking in his rear view mirror instead of at her. “It’s about Norman. Do you still wanna hear it?”

“I pretty much assumed it was about Norman. He’s about the only thing that gets you this torn up.”

They turned off the main road just outside of town. They were taking one of the old roads into town. It would give them a few more minutes in the sanctity of the Suburban, before hitting the station.

“He’s been different lately, distant. As soon as we get home he lets Norma out or goes in the basement till dinner. He’s trying to pretend everything’s okay, but it’s not.”

“Did you guys have a fight?”

“No, not really. I mean I called the James kid a brat, but he knew I was joking, but since then, I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with that, maybe he’s just going through something that he’s wanting to keep private for now.”

“There is no private with Norman. Norma knows all and tells all.”

“And what is she saying?”

Massett looked at her across the cab, “She said it was private.”

Marion shivered, “Oh my God! Norma and I agreed on something. I think I need a shower.”

Massett managed a snort of laughter. It was good to hear.

“Who knows, maybe he’s finally getting better?” She offered.

The words had been meant to comfort, but she could tell that they had the opposite effect. The Sheriff took a hard turn when he almost missed the cut-off for town.

“I’m going out for the rest of the afternoon.” He said, tightly. “Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency.” The muscles of his face had drawn tightly around his mouth and brow -making him look years older than he actually was.

“Only call if it’s an emergency. Right, whatever you say boss.” One of these days she’d learn to keep her mouth shut.

________________________

He hated Lecter. Like really hated him, deep in his gut hated him. The guy was a complete ass. An ass his brother needed. He could never figure out what Graham saw in the man -talk about opposites attracting. He pushed those thoughts aside and knocked on Lecter’s door. Right now, he needed the man too.

The knock set off the dogs. He could hear Lecter shooing them upstairs where he kept them when Norman had a session. He wished the man would hurry the hell up. Waiting was making him think and thinking was making him nervous.

He wasn’t even sure what he was doing here. Was he really freaking out at the thought of Norman getting better and not needing him anymore? He sucked in a harsh breath as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Why Norman was in therapy with Lecter in the first place? Why he’d made the damn deal with Lecter?

The door opened, Lecter looked concerned as his eyes darted for the road taking in everything around him. He was a predator, who thought he was about to be trapped, which made him dangerous. A part of him wanted to fuck with Lecter see if he could make him flinch, but he didn’t have time to beat around the bush or mess with anyone right now so he went with the direct approach. “I need to talk to you about Norman. Now!”

Lecter lifted his brow, “I see, come in Sheriff,” Lecter made a sweeping gesture inviting him into his home. The sunken living room led to a deck that overlooked the bay. The view was spectacular, if a little nauseating, at first. 

“Is something wrong? Has Norman had an episode?” Lecter said, following him into the living room. Joining him as he looked out over the bay and the town he’d pledged himself to in exchange for his brother’s safety and a home for them both. “No, not an episode, but something’s off. He’s been distant, awkward.” He knew he was going to sound like a monster. He looked at Lecter, the man was watching him and not the view. Well, it’s not like Lecter could really judge him. “I think I’m losing him.”

“What brings you to this conclusion?”

“Don’t treat me like I’m your patient! Just tell me!” He turned his face away. He hated feeling this weak, this small, in front of Lecter, “I need you to tell me if I’m standing in Norman’s way. In the way of his recovery. I...I wouldn’t want that.” He was breathing hard enough to fog the glass in front of him. He would walk away, if that’s what Norman wanted -needed. It would tear him apart, but he would do it. 

He wiped at a tear making a trail down his cheek. Showing Lecter his soft underbelly was probably a mistake, but he needed to know and Lecter was the only other person in this world as privy to Norman’s inner workings as he was.

“Sheriff Massett, Norman is still learning to manage his mental illness. He will, at times, and by necessity need to distance himself from those around him as he processes these changes and seeks balance with his alters. Whatever distance he chooses to put between the two of you, I can assure you that Norman will always have a place for you in his life. You are his brother, he would not abandon you.”

“But he needs me to back off. Is that what you’re saying?” He could do that, probably, without climbing the walls. 

“Just for a time,” Lecter said before turning away to walk back towards the kitchen. “I’m afraid I’ve been terribly rude. May I offer you a drink or something to eat, Sheriff?” He considered taking Lecter up on his offer, but he’d seen Lecter take a man’s Kidney out his body while he was still alive and though dying was better than what that bastard had deserved, the memory made his stomach turn.

“Yeah, thanks, but no. I gotta head back out. Got a few things to take care of at the station.” He eased his way towards the door, keeping an eye on Lecter as he moved. 

“Are you sure, Sheriff? You look like a man who could use a drink.”

“No, but uh, thanks and thanks for everything you do for Norman.”

“And thanks to you Sheriff, for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Yeah, sure,” He was great guy. Helping a serial killer and freaking out about losing his brother, his... He swallowed hard. Norman wasn’t his lover -would have never chose to be his lover on his own. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotion in check. He really needed to get it together. He nodded to Lecter, who was watching him from his kitchen door, and left Lecter’s as quickly as he had arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

“Joey?” Joey looked up from the delicate work he had been doing on the beaver pelt they’d gotten back from the tannery today. “Oh, Ms. James, I’m sorry we didn’t realize the time.” Norman said lifting his head from the sewing work he and Joey were doing on the pelt. 

“Mom, you’re early,” Joey complained, as he stood to start packing his tools away. 

“I know, I know, but work was done and I wanted to spend some time with you,” Sarah pinched at Joey’s cheek as she spoke. Joey twisted out of her reach with a long suffering, “Momm!”

Sarah gave Norman the same small, awkward smile she gave him every time she picked Joey up. Norman could tell that she was uneasy in the shop and with Joey’s enthusiasm for his new hobby. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that it was all okay and perfectly normal, but even his customers sometimes got freaked out in the store, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I saw your brother in town this morning,” She said, showing polite interest. Norman felt unease crawl up his spine. Work was the only time he could concentrate on something besides his brother. “No trouble, I hope.” He said, hoping he sounded pleasant. 

“No, just a fender bender, but, he uh, really gave it to one of the drivers.” Ms. James’ face seemed to indicate that she was grateful to not have been that driver.

“Driving safely is very important to Dylan. He has to work a lot of accidents and our mother passed in a car accident, so....” Though he doubted Mother’s death had anything to do with Dylan’s anger the driver Norman’s revelation seemed to make Ms. James uncomfortable enough that she shifted her attention from Norman and back to getting Joey ready to leave.

Norman walked them to the door, once Joey was packed and ready to go, turning the closed sign and locking the door as he waved at Joey one more time as they left. He had another hour before Dylan came to pick him so he wanted to get to a good stopping point on that pelt. He had just lifted the curtain that led back into his workroom when he heard a sound. A sound that wasn’t the curtain or someone at the door.

“Hi!” A high voice called behind him. Norman turned, looking around the shop front, “Who’s there?”

“Hi! Sorry!” A young woman, sporting a blonde pixie cut, waved at him as she poked her head around the Grizzly Bear they had just completed work on in the last few days. It was nearly 8 feet tall, one the biggest projects Norman had ever done, and managed to block a great deal of the woman’s body. 

“What are you doing here?” He said accusingly. If she thought she was going to rob him, she had another thing coming.

The woman hopped from behind the mounted bear, a shy smile on her face, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking around your shop,” She gestured to the bear, “and then I heard someone come in and I didn’t want to disturb you guys while you were talking, but then you locked the door, so I just wanted to say ‘I’m here’ and I’m not trying to rob you.”

“I didn’t hear anyone come in,” Norman looked to the door as he approached the woman. The hinges were usually loud enough to let him know when someone came into the shop, but he had been distracted by Joey, so maybe...

“I was admiring this piece,” She looked up to the bear’s snout. Its size and girth dwarfed her delicate features as she ran her hands through the fur around the animal’s midsection and up to his shoulders. “He’s amazing,” She said turning her face to him. Norman hadn’t realized that he had been following her hands as they trailed through the animal’s fur till she laughed and gave him a small smile.

_Watch the claws. ___

“Watch the claws,” He said, repeating the thought that hadn’t come from him. 

Lifting a brow in challenge, she ran one delicate finger across one of the dark, glassy claws on the bear’s outstretched arm, “Oh that is sharp. Did you kill it?”

“Oh, no, not me. I couldn’t hurt an animal, especially one so beautiful,” Norman wasn’t a natural flirt, but he knew when he was being flirted with and how to respond in kind.

“So, since you’re not robbing me, can you tell me your name?”

“Emma,” Norman took a step back.

“Something wrong?” Emma said, giving him an assessing look.

“No, it’s just that’s the name of a friend of mine. She moved away with her dad a couple of years ago. They wanted to travel the world before...uh, she has CF, cystic fibrosis, so he sold the shop to me and they took off to see the world.”

“I’m sorry about your friend, but that sounds kind of awesome for them,” Emma said, her eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, it is. They send me a postcard every week or so. I’m Norman by the way,” Noman held out his hand. Emma slid hers into his slowly, using it has an opportunity to step closer to him. “So, I’m new in town, obviously, and I’ve been exploring all day but I still don’t know what people do for fun in White Pine Bay. I don’t suppose you have any suggestions for me?”

“Oh, well, most people like to hike. A lot of hunting and fishing,” Norman pointed to several local catches that he had mounted on the walls, “the beach and the lake are nice too. You didn’t google us before you moved here?”

Emma laughed, “I’m afraid it was kind of a last minute decision. My dad moved us out here pretty suddenly.”

“Us?” 

“My sister and I, after our mom died.” 

“Oh, that’s actually how I ended up here. After my dad died, my Mom moved us here and then she passed away and my brother and I stayed.” 

“Well, I’d say we’re a matching pair then,” Emma moved toward him slightly as she spoke. Norman felt his face heat as he watched her teeth scrap along her bottom lip. It had been awhile since anyone given him this type of attention. Maybe that’s why he was so confused about Dylan? Of course, someone touching him that way after so long being alone would make him feel... “Do you want to go out?” The words rushed out his mouth. He needed to stop obsessing about his brother before he drove himself even crazier that he already was.

Emma seemed taken aback by his outburst, but quickly covered her shock with a smile and a nod. 

“I’ll pick you later then. We can go to the beach for sun down. It’s a great view.”

“That sounds really lovely, Norman.” Emma said as she eased around him to get to the door, brushing his arm as she passed.

“We haven’t found a place to live yet, so we’re staying at the Motor Inn just off Main. Do you know it?”

“Very well,” That earned him a raised brow and a smirk.

“I mean, I’ve driven past it a lot,” He said shaking his head. He’d have to make sure the owner didn’t see him. The man had hated Norman, well Norma, for years and made it his business to cause trouble for Norman whenever the opportunity arose.

“We’re in room 224. I’ll see you in about a couple of hours or so?”

“Yep, we can grab a bite in town somewhere. Show you the best in cheap dining White Pine Bay has to offer.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Norman.” Emma left, giving him a shy smile as she unlocked the door of the shop and ducked out, closing the door behind her. 

Norma was chattering something at him, but he wasn’t going to listen to her right now. He was going to enjoy himself tonight and wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I watched the Season 4 premiere and there's a scene in the premiere that is very similar to scene I wrote two years ago for this fic. It was actually kind of exciting and inspired me to start my beta work on the fic again. This story has been complete for years and I really want to get it finished over the next few weeks. Thanks to all of you who have commented over the years asking after the story.

He had half a mind to turn around go hit Rusty’s out on the bypass and get plastered. He hadn’t been on a good drunk since Norma died -too tied up in taking care of Norman to allow himself to be so out of control. “Buck up, Massett,” He told himself sternly, then laughed at himself for saying it out loud. Maybe he was going crazy too?

He forced himself up the stairs leading up to the house. His feet felt heavier with every step. One of these days he was going to rip these stairs out and pave a damn driveway!

The front door of the house closing echoed down the hill as Norman appeared on the porch, moving quickly down the steps toward him. Dylan’s brain went on alert, “What wrong? What happened?” He said as Norman met him on the the stairs.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just running late.”

“Late?” Was he helping at the theater tonight? He didn’t remember Norma or Norman mentioning a new play.

“For what?”

Norman fidgeted with the keys in his hands, “For a date,” He offered nervously.

“A date? A date with who?” Norman hadn’t been on a date since....well, since he and Norma had started whatever the hell they were doing.

“Emma, but not that Emma.” Norman said quickly, shutting down Dylan’s own excitement at the possibility of seeing Emma. “A new girl in town.” 

“And you’re sure she’s a real person?” He knew he was probably offending his brother, but Norman had thought Norma was the real deal for a long time.

“Well, Norma hates her, so she must be real enough,” Norman snapped back.

Jealousy ate at him, but he’d made a promise to himself that he would not stand in Norman’s way if he was ready to move on. Still, he had to ask, “And you’re sure that’s not dangerous? Being alone with some girl while Norma pours poison in your ear?”

“It’ll be fine.” Norman grit out between clenched teeth. Dylan was doing a great job pissing his brother off. 

“We’re just going to out to eat and see the beach.” Norman said, turning away and lightly running down the stairs to his car, clearly trying to get as far away from Dylan as possible. It’d be lying to say it didn’t hurt.

He thought about the beach and Norman walking hand and hand with some girl trying too... Dylan felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He turned back to house.The light in Norma’s old room was on, beckoning him in. It still shocked him when he felt the occasional pang of longing for his mother after all the years of animosity and the battles they had fought. He heard Norman’s car take off toward town, spinning gravel in his wake. He took another step toward the house and stopped. He couldn’t stand the thought of staying in that house alone all night. 

“Fuck it!” He said, turning and running down the steps back to his cruiser. Rusty’s it was.

____________________________________________________________________________

Norman took several deep breaths as he took stock of his emotions and how they were affecting his body and his mind. He needed to take a full accounting of where he was emotionally after his argument with Dylan. If he felt too much anxiety or fear, Norma was likely to emerge and try to frighten Emma away. He shook his head trying to clear away his negative thoughts. He needed to be mindful of his emotional state, but if he wasn’t careful he was going to psych himself out and into an altered state.

He was glad that Emma’s room as near the back of the hotel so he could avoid any unpleasantness with Mr. Hanks. The man had hated Norma for poaching his business back when they had the motel and wasn’t particularly fond of Norman as a consequence. 

He checked his reflection one more time. He might not be as handsome as Dylan, but he always made sure he was neat and presentable. Dylan had never needed to be neat, girls just fell into his lap. Thinking of Dylan made him wonder if Dylan had ever looked at any of those girls the way he'd looked at Norma that morning. Like he was looking at the most beautiful, special thing in the world. He swallowed hard as warmth settled in his lower stomach. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be thinking about Dylan in that way and he knew it. He looked at himself once more, silently berating himself for getting distracted and forced himself out of the car.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Hi, is Emma here?” Norman wondered if he had the wrong room when a young teenage girl answered the door. She rolled her eyes at him at him, leaving the door open and flopping on one of the unmade beds in the room instead of answering him.

“Norman, I’ll be there just a minute,” Emma called from the bathroom. Norman took a step in to the room hesitating when he noticed a man with dark hair and a rather shabby looking beard watching him from a chair set off to the side of the room. “Come in Norman, sit, talk with us, while Emma puts on her finishing touches.” The man said, waving Norman into the room. “Women can be so vain sometimes don’t you think?” He said leaning forward with a smirk. He made Norman uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Oh.., I suppose everyone can be sometimes,” Norman said trying to smile and diffuse the strange tension he felt in the room.

“True, very true. I have been accused of that sin myself.” The man’s smirk turned to a smile as he leaned back in his chair, “One of many, I’m afraid.”

“Joe, you’re freaking him out.” The girl who had opened the door said as she continued to ignore Norman.

“You all have a different accent?” Norman wondered aloud.

“Oh, that’s just us” Emma said emerging from the bathroom looking lovely and breaking some of the tension in the room. “Dad’s from the UK, came to the states for college, Mandy’s birth family was from Louisiana, and we’ve moved so much I don’t actually know what you’d actually call me.”

Mandy let out a bitter-sounding huff, reminding him of Joey when he thought his mother was being overprotective and unreasonable. 

Emma shot the girl a poisonous look. “Now girls, please try to get along. You know how it always distressed you mother when you fought.” Both women turned to their father, glaring daggers. He was wearing a smile that seemed out of place considering the topic of conversation.

“Come on, Norman,” Emma said, refocusing her attention on him. She grabbed his hand and pulled them from the room so quickly that Norman didn’t have time to say goodbye to her family. He looked over his shoulder as they descended to the parking lot, catching a glimpse of Emma’s sister as she stood in the door watching him warily. He felt hurt by the look for some inexplicable reason and turned his attention back to Emma, pushing the thought and the hurt away to focus on the night ahead.

____________________________________________________________________________

The feel of the revolver in her hand did a lot to slow down her heartbeat. She didn’t know who the hell thought trying to break her door down at 2 am was a good idea, but they were in for as rude an awakening as she had gotten.

The door shook with the force of the next blow. A fist slamming hard followed by what may have been a kick lower down. “Open up, Marion. I’m freezing my balls off out here!”

The sheriff could be a real charmer sometimes. She relaxed her grip as she came out of her defensive stance and walked through the dark towards the door. She lay her revolver on the end table by the couch, flipping on a lamp as she passed. “You ever hear of a phone!” She barked through the door while fiddling with the lock, “I was about to shoot your ass,” She said, as she finally opened it. She felt her face fall as she took in the sheriff’s appearance. “You look like shit!” 

Massett was leaning heavily against the door frame, dark circles under his eyes, wearing only his uniform pants and his undershirt. “And... you’re wasted! That’s great.”

“What?” He said as he shuffled in. She looked behind him to see if a cab was waiting for money, shutting the door when she saw the Sheriff’s logo from his cruiser gleaming under a street light. “And you drove the county car. That’s fantastic! I don’t suppose you ran over any dogs or old people on the way over? Really top off the night?”

Massett half tripped his way to her couch, falling down on it more than sitting. “I’m fine," He said, eyeing the gun on the end table with a sort of interest that made her uncomfortable. 

“Sheriff? What’s wrong?” She said has she leaned toward him, folding her arms in front of her chest when she realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra or much else. 

“Nothin’s wrong,” He said forcing himself to sit up a little as he spoke. “Just wanted to see you, is all.”

“Okay, well, you’ve seen me. Do you want me to call Norman to come get you?”

He gave her a pained look, “No! No, don’t call Norman,” He sounded like a child refusing their favorite toy out of spite, “ ‘sides he’s out. So...”

“At this time of night?” She felt her brows draw together. Norman being out at all hours was probably not a good idea.

Massett looked at the clock on the wall squinting as he tried to focus on the numbers, “Fuck man, it’s after 2.”

“Yeah, it is. Did they have to kick you out of the bar when it closed?” Marion really didn’t want to think about the shit storm that would probably cause in the morning.

“Nah, I left cause I wanted to see you.”

“You said that part already. Anything specific I can do for you, Sheriff?”

Massett looked at her and smiled wickedly, “Yeah, Marion, I got something you can do for me. Got some things I can do for you too.”

“Oh my God,” She tried to keep her laugh muted, but could feel it trying to break free so she turned away from the sheriff going to her kitchen table, where she'd left her phone charging before bed. “I’m gonna call Norman or Norma or whoever to come get you.” 

“Don’t,” He said the words so quietly she almost couldn’t make them out, “He’s..he’s on a date. I don’t wanna bother him.”

A date. Norman. Was on a date. She really needed to start putting herself out there more. “Okay, so you want to sleep it off here then?”

“Come here, Marion,” Massett held out his hand to her. She knew what he was offering and damn if the man wasn’t attractive as hell, but... “Look Sheriff, ...Dylan, you wanna come over one night when you’re not stinking drunk and your brother hasn’t broke your heart, you and me we’ll break some plaster, but not like this, not tonight.”

Massett dropped his arm to grab at his own chest. “What’d it feel like when Loomis took off on you?”

She took a deep breath, that was dangerous territory to cover, “Like a bullet to the chest, but I got over it.”

“Yeah,” Massett sounded far away. “that’s how it feels. Like I got a pit in my chest. I know it’s sick, but I can’t make it stop.” The hand on his chest clenched into a fist. She went to him then, sitting down next to him. God, she was too tired to have this conversation. 

“I don’t think you’re sick.”

She looked over to see if he looked as shocked as she thought he would. He did.

“Look, you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re a child molester. Norman gave his consent,” He wanted to argue, she could see it his face, but she cut him off, “maybe it was under extraordinary circumstances, but he agreed to let you and Norma get it on and you fell in love with him. It happens.”

Dylan turned his face away, “No, no, that’s the thing. It was..,” He beat his fist against his chest like a drum, “..it was already there. I didn’t want it to be, but I think Norma saw it and...”

And decided to do something about it. “O...kay, but still, adults, choices, it all still applies.”

“Yeah and I what am I supposed to do when he chooses someone else?”

“What everyone else does. Accept it and go on.” She’d had to do it, was still doing it. “Tell as old as time and all that,” She smiled at the dubious look he gave her.

“You’re quoting Disney at me?”

“I am.”

He relaxed his posture, allowing his exhaustion to show as he sank into the corner of the sofa, “But you’d fuck me, right? If I wasn’t so hung up on him?”

“And it wasn’t likely to get me killed in my sleep?”

Massett shrugged his shoulders at her. It seemed like an awfully nonchalant response to her theoretical murder. 

She laughed and leaned back into the couch. Then gave Massett a long, slow once over and said, “Hell, yeah, I would.”  



	6. Chapter 6

Why did he feel so uneasy? He shouldn’t. Dylan wasn’t hurt or missing. Norman had had a text from him this morning saying that he had gotten called into the office, stayed over when it got late and was just going to power through the day. Dylan was fine.

Maybe he should head over there before his appointment with Dr. Lecter? 

No! He couldn’t focus on Dylan anymore. He needed to focus on different things, normal things, like his date with Emma and how well it had gone. They’d had a nice dinner and walked along the beach and she had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off at the hotel, just the way dates are supposed to go.

He looked down at his hand not realizing that he had picked up his phone at some point and scrolled to Dylan’s name. He debated hitting the call button, just to check in and hear his brother’s voice. That way he’d know Dylan was alright and then he wouldn’t think about it anymore. Instead he turned the phone off, found his keys and readied himself for his visit with Lecter.

_______________________________________________________________

“Come in, Norman,” Dr. Lecter, well Lukas, was always such a pleasant host. It had been a struggle for him at first, accepting that he was in need of therapy in the first place. A struggle that re-emerged when he found out that his therapist had been accused of murder and then showed up in White Pine Bay, offering to help Norman in exchange for sanctuary. Norman had asked his brother not to make the deal, but Norma had insisted, acting out violently to push Dylan into making the deal. 

He hadn’t fully participated in his therapy at first, allowing Norma to control his treatment until she’d tried to murder Will Graham and nearly destroyed all their lives last year. It had shown him that hiding from his issues had been doing him and Dylan more harm than good.

He followed Dr. Lecter into his office adjacent the living room. This room was tonally different from the rest of house, with dark wood and heavy curtains. It felt almost like a cocoon. Perhaps that had been Dr. Lecter’s intent in it’s design? 

“So, tell me Norman, how have things been going?”

Norman took the seat across from Dr. Lecter, “Well, very well, I’ve met someone.”

“Met someone? A potential romantic partner?”

“Yes, I think so.” Norman felt defensive and knew Lecter could hear it in his voice.

Lecter nodded, “Did you think I would disapprove?”

“I don't think I thought about your reaction at all, and besides even if you did it wouldn’t matter. It’s my decision who I spend my time with, not yours.”

“Then why are you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous!”

“Norman, we’ve discussed this, suppression and denial hinder the therapeutic process. If discussing this new relationship upsets you, perhaps we should explore why.”

“That’s not what is upsetting me,” Norman looked away from Lecter. He didn’t like talking about the relationship between Dylan and Norma, but it was an issue that would need to be addressed soon. 

Lecter was silent as Norman searched for the right words, “I’m going to stop it....with Dylan and Norma.” He was glad no one was here to see his embarrassment. “I’m going to tell Dylan I want it to end and I’m going to try and have a normal life.”

Lecter remained silent, “I think what happens between them is wrong and I haven’t had an episode in a long time, so whatever the purpose of them being together was has been served and I think it’s time for me to move on and for Dylan to move on too.”

“It seems that you have given this a great deal of thought since we last spoke. Did something happen?”

Norman felt his knee shaking under his hand and forced it to stop. “I told you I met someone.”

“You’ve been seeing each other then?”

“We went on a date last night.”

“But you have been thinking of making this change for much longer?”

“A couple of weeks now,” Norman said, nodding.

“What precipitated your decision?”

“I told you I met someone.”

“When?”

“What?”

“When did you met this young lady?”

“Oh,” Damn it, he’d walked right into that one, “Yesterday,” He gritted out.

“What set you on this course, Norman?”

Norman clenched his jaw trying to keep the words in. “Norma.. Norma’s been showing me things, on purpose, I think. The things that happen between them.” He felt tears of humiliation welling up in his eyes. “I knew it was happening, but seeing it, feeling it...” 

“Made it real,” Lecter finished for him.

He nodded, trying to forget the flashes of memory. After the first incident last week, Norma had revealed more and more flashes of memory to him. He had tried to block the images from his mind, but then they had invaded his dreams, where he couldn’t escape them.

Dylan on his knees, his head bobbing under the layers of Norma’s dress, only the legs of the police badge pajama pants Norman had bought him for Christmas showing. His legs wrapped around Dylan’s hips as Dylan brought him off in the shower. Those memories he could categorize and dismiss because it was sex and sex was supposed to feel good, but the others... waking up from a nightmare with Dylan’s soothing words and touches, the way he always looked into Norman’s eyes when he touched him, kissed him.

“It’s not fair to either of us,” He swallowed. “He just getting used by Norma -again and I’m...I’m confused.”

“But it’s not Norma using Dylan is it? It’s an alter that your subconscious constructed by appropriating parts of your mother’s personality.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you recall the events that led you to acquiesce to Norma’s demands for greater intimacy with your brother?”

“Of course I do, it was the one of the worst days of my life.”

“Your attempt on Ms. Decody’s life.”

“That was an accident,” Norman knew that Emma had forgiven him, even kept the attack a secret to keep him safe, but it didn’t alleviate any of his guilt. 

“You told me once you believed the attack was a reaction to the shock of Emma’s declaration of her affections. Norma acting out of jealousy?”

“Norma's always very selfish when it comes to me.”

“And protective of you as well,”

“Yes, she is,” But there was no way Emma could scare anybody, “Wait? Do you think that Norma thought Emma was a threat to me?”

“Not to you, but to your relationship with your brother perhaps?”

“Norma is the one that wants a relationship with Dylan -not me!” Lecter wasn’t listening to him.

“Norman, Norma is a part of you, a part of your psyche, not a separate person.”

“I don’t want to sleep with my brother!” He was standing, his hands balled into fists.

“If you say so, Norman.”

Norman felt like a popped balloon. Black was crowding his vision and he so wanted to run and hide. To let Norma take over while he pushed all the ugly things in him into some dark corner, until he could come out again and pretend that everything was okay and that he was just a normal person. But even the real Norma hadn’t been able to save him, to protect him from himself, “Our session is over. I’m leaving.”

Lecter followed him out. He could feel the the man's presence just out of reach. A part of him ached for Lecter make a move on him, he wanted to hit something so badly, but that part wouldn’t come without Norma leading the way and he had to stay in control, at least until he got home and away from Lecter's influence.


	7. Chapter 7

“Norman! Norman! Wake up!” Dylan was leaning over him shaking both of his shoulders. He seemed so far away and sounded scared. Norman lifted a hand, wanting to comfort him, when a startled gasp made him aware of another presence in the room. “Marion, wait outside,” Dylan’s voice had gone deadly cold.

“Are you shitting me with this, right now?” She argued from somewhere behind Dylan.

“Call Dr. Lec.. Lukas, tell him to get here now!” Norman could here the stomping of her feet as she walked away from him. The ringing sound of the shop door bell telling him he was at work.

“Can you sit up?” Dylan asked, already pulling him into a sitting position. He could feel damp spots where his clothing clung to his skin making him wonder if he’d thrown up on himself. He tried to look down, but Dylan grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Don’t freak out, okay and stay with me?”

“Okay?” Had he gotten sick and passed out? He hadn’t done that in years, maybe his session with Dr. Lecter had been too taxing, but that had been hours ago.

Dylan swallowed, looking like he was struggling to speak, “Norman, where did the blood come from?”

“The what?” He looked down at himself. It looked like a gash had been cut across his midsection, he gasped and reached for the wound. “You’re not hurt, I checked.”

His hands came away wet and sticky, but now that he was looking he could see some droplets had dried on his hands. A flash, Emma with a pained look on her face as warmth splashed against him. “Oh my God, Emma!” He stood panicked, he had to find her.

“Norman, calm down. What happened?”

“I don’t know! We have to find her.”

“Did you hurt her?”

“Oh, God, I think so,” He was on the verge of hysteria now.

“Where is she? Was she the one who called 911?” Dylan was moving around the room, searching, which was ridiculous. If Emma were here they would have seen her. Dylan pulled a pair of plastic gloves out of his duty belt and put them on as moved around the room. “Where’s your cleaning supplies?”

“No! We have to find Emma.”

“Did she have a car? There wasn’t one in front of the shop. Maybe she took it to the hospital?” Dylan seemed to be talking to himself more than Norman. “If she passed out on the way, she’s probably been found by now,” He pulled the radio from his belt getting ready to make a call out.

“Stop ignoring me!”

“I’m trying to help you, dammit! Go get your cleaning supplies!” Dylan was so loud, Norman took a step back to save his ears, bumping into Joey’s backpack as he went.

“Joey was here,” He whimpered. How could he let Joey see something like that after all he’d been through. 

Dylan gave him a long look. He seemed to be frozen in place. “He probably just ran off.” He said, before putting his body back in motion, laying on the floor as he continued to look around the room for something.

“No, no, he wouldn’t.” The sound of Joey screaming sounded so clearly in his mind he had to look to make sure Joey wasn’t standing close by.

“Found it!” Dylan said as he stood holding a hunting knife covered in blood. A knife that wasn’t Norman's.

_He and Joey had been working when the sound of the door chime brought their attention away from their work. Norman had pulled back the curtain that separated the work room from the rest of the shop, Emma was there, smiling at him. Her sister standing silently next to her as her father shut the door and engaged the lock._

Emma’ s face had changed, the smile dropped as she stepped toward him, “Listen Norman, I don’t want you to get hurt so just let us go, okay?” Liar, Norma had whispered in his ear. “I’m not keeping you here, you can go whenever you want.” Norma had chided him for playing dumb, but he’d been holding on to hope that maybe this was all just some misunderstanding.

Emma rushed past him, grabbing Joey’s arm and wrestling Norman’s phone out of his hand. He’d heard a tiny voice on the other end before she disconnected the line. Joey had began punching and screaming out at her as Joe told Mandy to watch the door. Norman had tried to block his access, but Joe had was stronger and pushed him back into the work table as he took Joey and tried to calm him down.

“You’re dead!” Joey had screamed, terrified, and it all came together. Emma hiding in his shop, their strange little family.

“Leave him alone!” Norman had stepped forward trying to help Joey when Emma and rushed between them, knife in hand. He was quicker, though. He had grabbed the knife, turned it around and stabbed Emma in the stomach. Joe had hit him then, hard enough to knock him out.

“I think it was Joey’s dad,” Norman said numbly as Dylan wrapped the blade in one of the wash clothes he used to keep the shop clean. Norman noted that there was no evidence bag in sight. 

“Norman, his dad is dead.” Dylan said as he went towards the bathroom at the back of the shop.

“He was here. It was real, Dylan. I know it was and he took Joey.” Dylan stood motionless. Dylan had to believe him, had to help him. Panic started clouding his mind as adrenaline flooded his body. Maybe if he got to his car, got to the motel they were staying at...?

“Marion,” Dylan was speaking into his radio, “call the station, tell them I don’t want any questions, but that we’re looking for a 10 year old..,”

“Eleven,” Dylan turned to look at him over his shoulder, before continuing, “an 11 year-old male, possible kidnapping victim, traveling with a white male and a white female, who may be injured. Send them to every doctor’s office in town, set roadblocks up on every road out of town,” Dylan had turned walking toward the door as he spoke.

“And an African-American girl about 14, I think,” Norman spoke loud enough that Marion gave him an affirmative as Dylan released the call button on the radio and opened the door. Norman was on his heels, sticking his foot in the door when Dylan tried to close it behind him.

“I’m going!” He said, straining to open the door against Dylan’s grip. “Like hell you are!” Dylan said, giving up on the door and moving toward the SUV where Marion sat calling out Dylan’s orders to the station. “You can’t make me stay away and I will just go on my own, if you leave.”

Marion moved out of the driver’s seat, still barking out orders as officers called back for instruction. She held the radio in one hand as she opened the door and climbed in. Dylan started the truck and Norman rushed forward grabbing the steering wheel through the open window. Out in the light of day, he could see how much blood Emma had lost. It made him a little sick to his stomach, but if he stopped to wash up Dylan would be gone. 

Dylan sighed, “Okay, fine. Get in the back, I’ve got a bag back there with some clothes and a couple bottles of water try to get cleaned up. We need to tell Sarah James her kid is missing and I don’t want you freaking her out.

Norman pulled the bag from the floor and opened it has Dylan threw the truck in reverse, nearly toppling Norman over when he slammed on the breaks. “Fuck, I forgot about Lecter!” Dylan looked to Marion, who shrugged. “You said to call. He was in town and I asked him to hurry.”

“We don’t have time for a therapy session right now!” Norman couldn’t deal with that man right now.

“Graham and Lecter caught people like Joe Carroll for a living back in Boston. We might need them.” Dylan reasoned as Norman ripped his shirt over his head pointedly ignoring Dylan as Lecter and Graham’s truck pulled in next to them.

Lecter leaned out of the window on one elbow, looking far more casual than Norman had ever seen him during their sessions. “You called?”

“Joe Carroll’s alive, he brought some of his psychos into the shop took the kid and is probably on his way out of town. Any thoughts where he might headed, Graham?” Marion looked over her shoulder at Norman and he nodded at her impressed look. Dylan was a great sheriff. 

Lecter pulled himself back into their truck and turned to talk to Graham. Norman could hear the lilt of Lecter’s voice, but couldn’t make out what he and Graham were saying. He took a t-shirt from Dylan’s bag and pulled it over his head while the men talked.

“Will and I shall go find Ms. James and tell her that her son has gone missing. Carroll is likely to attempt some sort of contact with her.”

Dylan nodded, “Maybe, but one of his accomplices is hurt, so it might force a change of plans.”

Graham’s reply was loud enough that Norman could him over the rumble of the their engines and the squawking of Marion’s radio.

“Carroll doesn’t care about his disciples beyond what they do for him. Losing one is unlikely to change his plans.” Graham said as Hannibal rifled through the glove box of the truck, pulling out a gun that he quickly loaded.

Norman swallowed harshly, Graham carried a gun that Lecter was perfectly comfortable using, that was probably something good to know. “We will find, Ms. James while you search for Carroll and the boy.” Lecter said as he cocked the gun to load the chamber.

“We’ll stay in touch by phone,” Graham called as he put the truck in reverse and pulled away.

Dylan turned to him, lifting a hand toward Norman's face and pulling it back when Norman flinched away, “You’ve got blood on your chin,” He said as he turned back around to pick up his radio.

Norman used his stained and torn button up to clean off his face trying to mentally ready himself for whatever came next.


	8. Chapter 8

This was going to be the last time. She definitely was quitting next week. She just needed a little something to take the edge off before getting Joey from the shop. That place gave her the creeps, but Joey did seem to be coming out of his shell more since he’d been going to help Norman after school, so maybe it was worth all the nightmares. It’s not like she wouldn’t be having nightmares anyway.

She tapped the cigarette out against the wall and threw it in the dumpster when she was sure it was out. She pulled her purse open to find her keys and gum and started for her car. The lot was well-lit and she could see the main road from the side-entrance of the office she worked in. It wasn’t teaching, but there was no way she would be able to get anywhere near an education career while under WitSec’s protection. She was still mourning the loss of that part of her life, but keeping Joey safe was more important than her career.

She had been hyper-vigilante since Joe had broken out of jail, so the sense of being followed was not a new one, but when she glanced toward the sound of footsteps, this time it wasn’t her paranoia feeding on her mind, it was a young woman quite purposefully walking toward.

She kept up her stride, gripping her keys between her fingers in such a way that they could be used as a weapon if necessary. She reasoned that there were many perfectly innocent reasons that the girl might be approaching her so deliberately and decided to instigate contact, “Can I help you?”

The girl stopped looking at her for a moment before she spoke, “Joe wanted me to say..,” The girl hesitated as Claire took a step back, she didn’t want to kill such a young girl, but she would defend herself against any attack. The girl must have sensed her intent to attack and she held up her hands to show that she had no weapon, “He wanted me to tell that he’s got Joey and you’re to come with me if you want to see him again,” She said keeping her eyes on Claire’s hands.

“Who are you?” She should have known better than to think they would be safe here. Why had she listened to the FBI? “What have you done with my son?” She took step toward the girl raising her hand to strike.

The girl pulled back, afraid, Claire had a moment of guilt till the girl continued, “Joe said you wouldn’t believe me and that I should tell about that night in London -a man in a cornflower blue suit.”

They had run into the man taking a walk along the Thames. He’d smiled at them and done a little dance as they walked by him. It had been one of the happiest times of their marriage. 

“How is still alive?”

“It don’t matter how. Are you gonna let me take you to Joey or not?”

She nodded numbly, “Yes, where?” She looked around the lot for another car, but saw no waiting driver. 

“You’re to take me and I’ll show you,” The girl nodded at Claire’s car. They had been watching her, that much was clear. If she survived this she was going to give the Marshall’s hell for not keeping them safe.

She unlocked the car using her fob and sat waiting as the girl climbed in and put on her seat belt, “Where’d Joe find you? A middle school?”

“Joe’s teaching me everything I need to know.” She argued pointing toward the exit of the parking lot. “Turn right out of the lot.”

“He teach you about manners? You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Joe’s followers were unstable and more than one had developed an attachment to her, maybe if she could reach out to this girl at a critical moment...

“I don’t want to tell you.” The girl said, refusing to make any sort of eye contact.

“Where are we going?” 

“I’m to tell you step-by-step.”

Dam Joe. “Is Joey okay?”

The girl nodded as Claire started to pull out on to the street, she was so involved in trying to read the person next to her the truck cutting her off forced her to slam on her brakes throwing them both forward. “What the hell?” Was this a part of Joe’s plan?

Two men came out of the truck one of them pointing a gun at the passenger seat. Shit! The snick of the seat belt release had her hands moving before she had time to think. She grabbed the girl struggling to keep her in the car until she could find out where they had taken Joey.

She tried to dig her hands into the girl’s hair as Dr. Lukas opened the door. The Doctor's hands on the girl's shoulders kept her from getting too far. “Please stop fighting, it will only end badly for you.” Lukas said so calmly Claire felt herself gaping. 

“Joe’s alive..” 

Lukas cut her off, “We’re aware. Sheriff Massett sent us to find you. Your former husband attacked Norman and took him. The Sheriff’s office is searching as we speak, but perhaps we can help them narrow down their search area.” Lukas looked to the girl as she recoiled from his touch. Lukas smiled at her slyly and said, “You remind me of an old friend.”

________________________________________________________________________

Will holstered his weapon as the girl came out of the car. He should search her, but he could tell by the way she carried herself that she didn’t have a weapon. Carroll trusted her to do his bidding without having to resort to violence on her part. Of course, the boys mother would go without having to be forced, regardless of the threat to her own life. 

“What is your name, dear?” Hannibal’s soft, comforting tone had a way of calming even the most traumatized patients. The girl looked from Hannibal to him, she wasn’t as sure about Carroll as she wanted to be and covered it by seeming resolute in her devotion.

She jutted her chin out, “I’m not telling you anything,” she said, defiant. Will could see the curl of Hannibal’s smile as the corner of eyes crinkled. He was completely charmed. Will would have laughed had it not been for the fear and anxiety practically vibrating off Ms. Matthews next to him.

“I know you want to protect him, but he would sacrifice you in a second to save himself,” Will could see that his words hit the mark.

The girl swallowed, “Emma’s hurt real bad, but...” She halted, biting at her bottom lip to keep herself from betraying the man she considered a father.

“If you take us to her maybe we can help,” The girl gave him a disgusted look. Hannibal looked to him, alright the kid didn’t care if Emma lived or died, but seeing her suffer had been upsetting.

Will could see the moment the girl decided that she was going to stay the course and keep her faith in Carroll, after all she didn’t really have a choice anymore. 

“Ms. Matthews, I have some rope in the back of the truck. Would you get it for me?” Will asked Ms. Matthews, her eyes widened as she looked to the girl.

“I’m sorry my dear, we need a moment,” Hannibal said before gently taking the girl’s head and then not so gently knocking it into the car door, rendering her unconscious. 

“Oh my God! What are you doing?” Ms. Matthews looked appalled, “She’s a child!”

“She is and I’d like to use that to our advantage, but we need a moment,” Will looked at Hannibal, “Can you pretend that you don’t know how to tie someone up?”

_______________________________________________________________________

She woke slowly to the sound of distant voices, for a second she thought it was momma fightin’ with one of her clients, but then she remembered, remembered that momma was gone.

She opened one eye slightly, trying to make the movement small enough that no one would see it. It looked like she was in the back of a truck surrounded by fishing poles and a couple of toolboxes. The toolboxes were locked and there was no way that she would be able to break the locks with her hands bound. If Joe were here he would say that she should stay calm and think, find her moment and take it.

She listened hard trying to discern how far the voices were from her. If they were distracted maybe she could make a run for it. The voices seemed like they were far enough away that she risked opening her eyes. All she could see was the truck bed, but no one seemed to be keeping watch so she risked trying to move. The rope was uncomfortable, but she felt some give and began working her wrists against her waist as quietly as she could.

One of the men was trying to calm Joe’s wife down and asking her to be patient, while it sounded like the other guy was talking to someone else by phone. She made a face when one of the men said she smelled like she had recently been at the docks. She did not reek of anything, thank you very much!

The rope gave a little, allowing her to slip one hand free and then other. She got the rope around her ankles pretty easily, even lying on her side and keeping her movements small enough so as not to disturb anything in the truck. 

“Will?” One of the men called to the other, who ran several steps away from her. She lifted her head slightly above the rise of the truck bed to find the two men trying to talk Joe’s wife out getting into her car. Mandy couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the woman looked fit to be tied herself. 

This was her shot. Mandy stood, keeping an eye on the group while taking a careful step over the truck gate and another to the ground. She took two more steps back before turning and making a run for it.

____________________________________________________________________

 

“Do you think this will work?” Norman rubbed his hands up and down his thighs as he spoke, “What if we lose her?”

“It’s going to work. We just need to give her enough time to feel comfortable going back to Carroll. As soon as we know where they’re at we’ll be all over them.” Dylan had parked them a couple of blocks from the parking lot where Lecter and Graham had found Mandy and Ms. Matthews. Marion was a couple of blocks in the other direction waiting to see if the girl headed West, out of town or East toward the docks. 

Ms. Matthews had theorized that Carroll would be somewhere near the shore since it had been one of his favored killing grounds so he and Dylan had hidden the Sheriff’s vehicle in an alley to wait. Norman wished that Marion would have been able to stay with them, but Dylan hadn’t wanted to involve too many officers just in case one of them caught a whiff of something about Lecter. Of course, that probably wasn’t the only reason.

“You were going to cover for me,” He sounded nervous, though he wasn’t sure why.

Dylan turned his face away from the street they were watching to look at him. “You were defending yourself.”

Norman felt his lip curl into a half-bitter smile, “You didn’t know that when you were getting ready to clean the shop with a bottle of clorox. You thought I had murdered a girl, maybe even killed Joey.”

Dylan shrugged like it was nothing. Like covering for Norman hadn’t forced him into a dozen impossible situations over the years. “Why would you..? Why would you do that?” 

Dylan’s lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something, but he just couldn’t seem to make the words come, so he turned back to watch the road.

“Oh, come on!” Norma shouted from the back seat nearly giving him a heart. It had been awhile since he had seen his mother’s form as a separate entity from himself. Dr. Lecter had said that as Norman accepted Norma as a part of himself, his subconscious wouldn’t feel the need to project Norma’s image in times of need and so she had appeared to him less and less.

“You’re always going to need me, Norman,” Norma said, sounding vaguely proud. Norman huffed, Lecter had said as much, but there had always been a part of him that had hoped maybe someday he would just be Norman.

“Norman?” Dylan’s voice sounded concerned as he turned to see what Norman was staring at in the backseat. “Are you okay?” Dylan’s eyes were worried as they turned from the empty backseat to him. “They’re beautiful aren’t they?” Norma volunteered, making the collar of Norman’s, well Dylan’s shirt feel tight suddenly. Dylan did have beautiful eyes.

“I’m okay, Dylan. I just...Norma was just putting in her two cents, you know how she is,” He tried to sound light and joking, but there was no way that Dylan was buying it.

“She’s probably just pissed that she might not get to finish off your friend.” 

Norman shifted in his seat, wondering if there was a limit to his brother’s loyalty, “It wasn’t her, Dylan. It was me. A part of it was wanting to protect Joey, but a part of it...she tricked me, made me think maybe I could be normal like everyone else for once.”

Dylan sat silently, as he fought against tearing up in front of his brother, “Norman, you don’t have to be like anyone else,” Dylan put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “you’re the best person I know, other people should want to be like you.”

“And Norma?” He knew Dylan had feelings for her, but he couldn’t possibly be blind to who she was and what she would do if pushed. Dylan’s hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck. “I love every part of you, Norman, Norma included.”

Norman had never felt so heavy limbed and light at the same time. Dylan couldn’t mean what he was saying or he didn’t realize how it sounded. He was probably confused because of Norma. Norman’s head was spinning, but his vision cleared when he saw the girl, Mandy, passing on the street opposite, “There she is!”

Dylan pulled his hand away abruptly as they sank back and down into their seats, trying not to draw notice as Mandy scanned the street. “She’s heading to the dock. Matthews was right.” Dylan looked to him, they were closer now that they had leaned toward the middle of the vehicle in their effort of hide themselves from the girl. If Norman had wanted to he could move a few scant inches and press his lips to Dylan’s. He swallowed, not because he found the idea disgusting, but to keep himself from doing it. Was Norma more in control right now than he thought?

“We’ll pull out when she gets through the next intersection.” Dylan pushed the call button on his radio. “Marion, we’ve got her going East on Main. Grab Lecter and Graham and meet me behind the old Ford warehouse. We’ll be able to keep an eye on her from there and get to the county’s boat, if he makes for the ocean.”

“On my way, Sheriff,” Marion’s voice was steady, betraying no fear, no doubt. Norman really needed to tell Marion how much he appreciated all she did for Dylan, he wasn’t sure what Dylan would do without her and hoped they'd never have to find out.


	9. Chapter 9

The boat was still here. Joe was still here. She had hoped, believed, but it had taken her so long to get here, she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had left without her. The ramp up to the boat was still down, but there wasn’t anyone on deck. 

Joe had killed the owner this morning during a tour of the bay. Joe and Emma had convinced the man that they were interested in buying the boat wanted to see how it ran. He’d shown them how well it ran and how the controls worked before Joe stabbed him and threw him over the side of the boat and into the water.

She ran up the plank, looking around for any sign of Joe’s wife or the two men that had attacked her. She wondered if they even knew she was gone yet or if they were looking for her right now.

“Joe?” She called opening the door to the wheelhouse. The engine was running, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She could hear some movement below, in the ship’s cabins and went toward the sound. It was probably Joe tending to Emma, if she was still alive, or he was trying to keep his little boy from freaking out anymore. Her ribs still hurt from the whack he had given them when they dragged him away from that creepy dead animal store. Emma was supposed to take care of the kid, but she’d been bleeding all over the place and between her screaming and the kid’s they’d been lucky to get out of there at all.

She really hoped that Joe knew what he was doing opening this can of worms. She’d had a sinking feelin’ ever since that ex-FBI lady had told him that she’d found his wife in witness protection. They had tracked down, ‘Joe’s most loyal follower’ for help grabbing the kid, which had created an all new set of problems. ‘Most Loyal Follower’, just thinking it made her roll her eyes Craziest B-I-T-C-H was more like it. 

“Mandy, darling, I was starting to worry,” Joe said, startling her. He held a knife in one hand and the kid in the other. It looked like he wasn’t struggling as much, but he must have been yellin’ cause Joe had taped his mouth shut. 

“I’m sorry Joe, these men showed up and stopped me,” She’d been sure they were going to put her in jail.

“Police? FBI?” Joe stepped forward, pulling Joey along with him.

“I don’t think so. They were in a beat up truck and instead of arrestin’ me they knocked me out. They knew your wife though,” She hoped Joe wasn’t too upset with her for failing him.

“But you got away?”Joe was looking past her out of the windows of the boat. 

“They tied me up and I when they weren’t looking I ran for it,” Joe gave her a pleased smile. “Of course you did, my girl. You have a very strong survival instinct, it’s one of the things that makes you special.”

“You weren’t followed?” Joe strained his eyes looking up and down the docks.

“I don’t think so?” She could see that Joe was doubtful. She wished she could reassure him, but she wasn't sure and knew better than to give him false assurances.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now, I suppose we will have to leave without Claire.” Joe pulled at Joey’s arm dragging him to a seat just next to the Captain’s chair and forcing him into it. 

“I need you stay here for now, son. We’ll be on a way in a just a moment.” Joey whimpered, trying to pull away from Joe. God, didn’t the kid know how good he had it? Here Joe was risking everything to get him and he was acting like a baby. 

“Mandy, would you go and check on Emma for me? She was having an issue tending to her wound.” 

“Sure, I guess? She downstairs?”

“Yes, in the galley, dear. Do try and be helpful, she’s had a trying day.” Trying day? She supposed getting your guts stabbed out of you by a guy you thought’d be a pushover was trying. If hadn’t been for the fact that Joe was so pissed about it, Mandy would have cheered when the guy stuck Emma.

She walked down the narrow stairs into the galley. Emma was setting at a the table with a roll of bandages wearing only a bra and her pants. She was even paler than usual as she pressed the bandage to her wound. There were several discarded wads of paper towels and pieces of fabric littering the table, all of them soaked in blood. She didn’t know a person could bleed that much and still be alive.

“Joe said I should help you,” Emma gave her a venomous look. “It’s about time you got back. Where’s Claire or did you mess that up too?”

“It’s not my fault you got stabbed. You’re the one who said taking him there would be easiest.”

Emma clenched her jaw, “You were supposed to watch him while we grabbed Joey. Not stand there while he went after me.”

“You said he wouldn’t be a problem. It’s not my fault you were too stupid to figure out that the guy was gonna freak when we tried to take the kid!” She really hated how Emma treated her like she was the one that was the annoyance. Everything had been just fine when it was just her and Joe.

Emma was standing now, the pair of scissors she’d been using to cut the bandages in her hand. Mandy didn’t have a weapon on her, but she could get to the knives in the sink drain if she needed too. Emma took a quick step toward her only to be thrown to the ground when the boat lurched violently. She had barely managed to keep her feet under her, herself, but it gave her time to get up the stairs and to Joe. 

“Joe!” She shouted as she bolted up the stairs. Joe didn’t even turn to acknowledge her presence as he struggled with the controls of the boat. Another larger boat was blocking their way, keeping them in dock. The grinding sound of metal forced her to cover her ears. “Joe! What’s happening?”

“Someone followed you!” Joe shouted back as he revved the engine and tried to force the other boat to back off.

A squawk followed by a voice startled them both.

“This is the White Pine Bay Sheriff’s Department, turn off your engines and relinquish your craft.” 

“They’re going to board us!” Joe looked absolutely livid. “Go get Emma and arm yourself.”

“They have guns Joe!”

“That they do, my dear, but they have also spent years learning to control their murderous instincts. Fortunately we do not have that handicap.” 

She turned to find Emma looking at her from the bottom of the stairs. She had a knife in one hand and the scissors in the other. Great! Not only was she going into a gun fight with a knife, she’d have to watch her own back.

___________________________________________________________________________

He really hated cliche’s, but when they fit a situation, “It got awfully quiet all of a sudden.” He said and looked to Marion. She nodded to him, “Yep, sure did.” Norman was practically vibrating next to him. 

“You don’t think there’s anyway they got off the boat do you?” Norman said as he looked up and down the dock. He could see Lecter, Graham and Ms. James as they walked down the dock toward the boat. Mandy, in trying to evade capture, had taken the long way around town to get to the docks, giving them enough time to get to the department boat and block them in.

“No, they’re there,” He said trying to give his brother some reassurance, though he was not confident in their plan at all. Lecter and Graham had said that Carroll and his followers would probably go down swinging taking Joey with them if they assaulted the boat directly, so they had come up with this crazy plan.

He watched as Claire Matthews, aka Sarah James disappeared from view. He couldn’t hear her voice, but the plan was to have her, Lecter and Graham board the boat seeking a peaceful resolution. Graham had said there would be no giving up on Carroll’s part, but they wanted to at least be aware of Joey’s location on the boat before everything inevitably went to hell.

“I don’t like this Dylan, one of us should be with them,” Norman opened the door to the cockpit and tried to go out onto the deck. Dylan managed to get a hand around his elbow before he cleared the door. “What are you doing? You don’t even have a vest on.” He said as he pulled his brother back into the cockpit.

“I want to know what’s happening!”

“We’re just going to have to trust that Graham knows what he’s doing,” Norman could feel his head shaking as Dylan spoke, “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I guess we go in -guns blazing.” 

__________________________________________________________________________

She could feel her heart pounding in her ears it was beating so hard. If Joe had hurt Joey she would kill him and nothing Dr. Lukas, his boyfriend or the Sheriff could do would stop her.

She’d nearly knocked Graham out when he’d held her back from running for the gang plank when Joe had come out to pull it in, but Dr. Lukas had convinced her that going on her own would guarantee her death and Joey’s loss.

She knew now that telling Sheriff Massett her true identity had been the right choice. There was no way the Sheriff’s department would have mobilized so quickly if she’d come to them out of the blue talking about dead men and cultists stealing her child.

Joe was no longer at the helm of the boat, but someone had opened the door to the cockpit, a trap for the first person to enter. They hadn’t seen Joey, but the young girl who’d come to take her to Joe had passed by the window as had Emma Hill, looking like a ghost.

She looked to the two men next her. Not police, but men who’d had experience with men like Joe according to Sheriff Massett. She hoped that experience would pay off in her favor.

“Joe! Joe, can you hear me?” She called to the boat. They had cut the engines when they realized they were hemmed in, but between the sounds of the pier and the bay it was possible they could not hear her.

She stepped forward, halting when Dr. Lukas put a hand on her arm. “Give them another moment to decide,” Graham said.

“Decide what?

___________________________________________________________________

That was Claire’s voice calling Joe’s name. She knew it, even though she’d never met the woman before today. If she had had any doubts, they would have left the moment she saw Emma’s face. Joe had said they would be the first line of defense when the police raided the boat, while he and Joey (like that kid was going to be any use) would attack from below. 

It was suicide, she knew it and Emma knew it, but at this point it wasn’t like they had many other choices and if she was gonna die, she’d want to do it protecting Joe anyway.

“I wish she would shut up and come on,” Emma hissed across the floor from her. They were supposed to look like dead bodies and then go after the first responders on the scene. Emma had taken a particular delight in rubbing her bloody hands over Mandy's face and neck. Mandy was sure she looked like something from a horror movie. 

Joe’s wife kept yelling, sounding frantic. It wasn’t often that she and Emma agreed on anything, but she kind of wished they’d get on with it herself.

Instead, she heard an accented voice carry into through the open door. “Mr. Carroll, do you remember me? Do you remember our meeting at Winslow University? A reading of Emerson’s essays, I believe?”

Emma looked as confused as Mandy felt. “Hey Joe, you hearing this?” Emma whispered down to Joe as Mandy got up on her knees to peek out of the window. There had been some sort of quick shout out from the police boat that she couldn't make out, but that wasn't what had Mandy boggled.

“What?” Emma struggled to stand so she could see what Mandy was seeing. There on the dock, the tall grey-haired guy who’d knocked her out had Joe’s wife in sleeper hold. Her arms were flailing as she struggled against him, but her movements seemed to be getting slower until her legs gave out from under her. The other man who she thought was the other guy who’d tied her up earlier was just looking at the dock, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“This just goes to show you, girls you should never give up hope,” Joe said behind her. She had been so engrossed in the totally weird drama on the docks that she hadn’t realized he had come up behind her and was looking out of the same window.

She turned, to find Joe looking absolutely delighted. He ran to the open door, “Dr. Lecter, this is a pleasant surprise!” Joe called to the two men holding Claire Matthews up by her arms.

Doctor...? “Joe,” She said in awe, “Is that the Cannibal?”

Joe smiled at her broadly, making hope flutter in her heart, “Oh, my dear girl, he is so much more than that.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, editing has gone a lot faster than I thought. It'll be done and posted this week-finally!

“Is there a reason you neglected to mention that you know Joe Carroll?” Will hissed as they watched the gang plank lower to the dock.

“I did not think it relevant till this moment.”

“I think it is very relevant.”

“If I had informed you or Ms. Matthews of my plan then she might have behaved differently. I simply saved her the stress of a performance. ”

Will shook his head, “A Trojan Horse? Seems rather obvious.” Will said as started up the narrow plank. They had to move slowly, keeping an eye on Carroll and their footing.

“Obvious to most, it is fortunate for us that Mr. Carroll has enough hubris for the whole Grecian Army.” Hannibal said, giving Will his most charming smile. The one he wore when he was certain of victory. Will knew he should rebel against the desire to return it, but he did it anyway.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Joe, this is a mistake!” Emma plead as Joe lowered the plank. “Don’t you want to meet Dr. Lecter?” Joe enthused. Mandy shuttered at the thought. She’d seen all the stories about him, seen all the news reports about the people he’d killed. “Are you sure it’s even him?” Emma said squinting at the man on the dock, “He doesn’t look like the pictures I’ve seen.”

“The pictures can’t really capture a man like Dr. Lecter, Emma. I’ve met the man, I know how he carries himself. That’s him.” Joe seemed more excited than Mandy had ever seen him. 

“You think he’ll help us?” She asked as the men brought Joe’s wife up the plank.

“Why else would I bring such a gift?” The man, Dr. Lecter, replied as he stepped gingerly on the boat.

“Dr. Lecter, so good to see you again. I’m afraid we’re poor hosts at the moment, but you are welcome to share in what little we have to offer.” Joe opened his arms in a welcoming manner.

“Perhaps, just a place to sit and allow your wife to recover.”

“Oh, you didn’t kill her, then?” Joe said smiling, delighted at his ‘gift’, as Dr. Lecter had called her.

“Well, as much as I would enjoy a long visit, I do have a small issue of some concern,” Joe motioned over his shoulder to the police boat.

“I find talk of wealth crass, but I must admit it has it’s advantages.” Lecter’s smiled broadly as he waved at the boat. Mandy felt her mouth drop open as the boat actually revved it's engines and gave them some space.

“Oh, my God!” Emma was as awed-sounding as Mandy felt. They looked to each other, maybe they were going to make it out alive after all.

______________________________________________________________________

“Get off me!” His shout reverberated around the cabin causing Dylan to wince and lean away from him. It gave him enough leverage to pull one arm free and shove it at Dylan’s face, trying to force him off. They had fallen to the floor when Dylan had tried to stop him from going out to stop Lecter from hurting Ms. Matthews. 

“Sheriff?” Marion questioned. Dammit! He didn’t want to hurt Marion, but if he had too..”Just keep an eye on the boat Marion! Norman! Calm down!” Dylan’s words came out slurred as he strained against Norman’s hold. 

“They’re killing her!” He argued vehemently as he pushed and pulled trying to throw Dylan off of him.

_Maybe the bitch deserves it._

Norman looked around wildly. Someone else was here with them. “Norman?” The concerned note to Dylan’s voice slowed his struggle. “Who said that?”

“Said what?” Dylan shook Norman's hand off, “Are you going calm down, or not?”

“Let me up!” 

“Are you going to stay calm?”

“Just let me up!” He could feel Dylan’s huff of air in his face. “Fine, but try to stay calm, okay?”

“Fine!”

“Marion?” Dylan said as he stood. 

“He’s letting Lecter on the boat.” She said matter-of-factly.

Norman watched as Graham and Lecter dragged Claire Matthews onto the boat. Norman swallowed when he saw Emma standing next to Carroll, blood soaking through a bandage, her pale skin almost translucent. 

“Is Lecter waving us off?” Dylan looked to Marion. He sounded more than a little affronted.

“Looks like it.” Dylan and Marion looked at one another. Norman could see that they were torn as how to respond. “Your not actually considering...” Marion sounded horrified. Norman could not believe his brother was being so stupid as to follow Lecter’s lead.

“Norman!” Dylan cried when Norman tried to make for the boat's controls. 

Dylan rubbed a hand across his face, “Move the boat, Marion. Not too far, lets just give them some room to move.” His voice rose to drown out Norman’s protests. “This is insane. Do you hear me? This is an insane decision.”

“I trust Lecter. At least in this.” Dylan said looking at him. 

“Look, I know you think you can trust him, but he’s dangerous Dylan,” He moved closer to his brother as spoke. “I know, Norman, but he’s gotta a lot to lose here. I gotta believe, at the very least, he’s going to do what’s best for him.”

Dylan had a point. He’d been in Lecter’s home and seen him and Graham interact. If he didn’t know that Lecter was a murderer, he would have thought they were just like any other couple. Maybe Dylan was right. Norman really hoped he was, after all Joey’s life depended on it.


	11. Chapter 11

Will wished he had his gun. He'd let Hannibal convince him to leave it in the truck. They weren’t unarmed, but relying on Hannibal’s scalpel against two, no three, the girl had killed before, murderers seemed like an overly confident decision to make. 

They followed said girl down the small set of stairs to find Joey sitting on the floor of the boat’s galley. He was tied so that he sat a-straddle the pedestal of the kitchen table. His mouth was taped shut and he scurried back from Mandy when she approached him. Will was still carrying Claire over one shoulder. Going down the stairs had been difficult without Hannibal’s help, but he got the distinct impression that he was supposed to display his subservience to Hannibal, so he followed Hannibal’s lead and didn’t speak when Hannibal introduced him as his faithful companion. He sat Claire on the bench next to the table, carefully laying her down in the seat. He could hear the distress in Joey’s voice as the realization struck that his mother was there and in danger. Will regretted the distress, but he was sure Hannibal had a plan and mostly sure that plan included saving Claire Matthews and her son.

Hannibal walked past Will to lean against the wall of the galley. He made eye contact with Will and let out a low whistle. It was the same whistle he used to call the dogs in. Will was going to make him pay for this later. For now though, he walked to Hannibal and dropped to his knees in supplication beside him.

____________________________________________________________________

“So, you’ve built your own little paradise it seems, Dr. Lecter,” Joe’s deep voice resonated in the small space making Mandy feel trapped despite the fact that she had the door to her back.

“I have been fortunate in finding a home here. And the arrival of your former wife and son provided me with some amusement.” Lecter looked fondly at Joey, who cringed back from him, tears wetting his face. Mandy felt bad for him. Thank God it had been Joe to come into her life and not some crazy person.

“You’ve taken it upon yourself to train my son?” 

“I would never wish to presume that I could replace the boy's father, but I have taught him a great deal.” Joe watched Lecter as he spoke. Mandy wondered if Joe really was making a mistake. This guy was crazy and it looked like he kept that other guy like he was some kind of pet or something. 

“Mm...” Joe was angry she could tell, by the tone of his little hum, “I suppose I should be grateful he had someone to take up my mantel.”

The man simply nodded as he ran his fingers through the hair of the man at Lecter's feet. “It is good he has his father back in his life. And his mother?”

“Oh, Claire won’t be joining us on our trip.” 

“You wish the boy to kill her, then? To free himself from his past.” Mandy felt cold suddenly remembering her mother’s face when Mandy had driven her knife deep into her mother's body. Momma had looked so betrayed, so lost, like she couldn’t understand what was happening. Joe was saying something, but it sounded like he was far away. It sent a spike of fear through her spine to think of him not being near her, so she forced herself focus on what was right in front of her and not a past that was unchangeable.

The sound of a moan brought their attention to the unconscious woman starting to wake among them.

“It appears whatever your plans for your wife, the time is at hand, Mr. Carroll. Would your family like some privacy... or?” The guy wasn’t moving, even as he offered to leave. Mandy wished Joe would just take him up on his offer, but she had a feeling that would not be the case.

Joe looked to Emma as she drooped against the counter top. She looked like she was about a second from toppling over. “To be honest, I may need a small amount of assistance. Joey’s liable to reluctant and I’m afraid my dear Mandy,” Joe looked to her with a smile, “wouldn’t be able to assist him while he frees himself from his mother, nor able to contain Claire on her own.” 

Mandy watched as Claire began to move. A sliding sound close to her drew her attention back to Emma, who was now sitting on the floor with her head bent at a strange angle. Mandy moved to help her into a more comfortable position when Joe said, “Not now dear, we’ll attend to Emma shortly. Would you assist Dr. Lecter, please.”

Dr. Lecter had moved to Claire, who had began to thrash and kick at the man as he grabbed her. It was no use really. The dog-man joined the first, lifting Claire onto the table, Dr. Lecter holding her hands, while the other guy wrapped his hands around Claire's ankles knocking her shoes off and onto the floor next to her son. 

“Grab a leg dear and do hold on,” Joe eyed both men as he pulled his knife from his belt and knelt to cut Joey’s bonds. Mandy could hear the kid struggling, but Joe was a strong man and the kid was exhausted, so he got him on his feet with just a little bit of struggle. Mandy couldn’t say the same for Claire. The three of them were having a hell of a time keeping her still and she was screaming at Joe to let Joey go, but when Joe made up his mind about something he just wouldn’t listen to anyone else. Mandy had learned that the hard way. 

Joey was struggling and screaming too, trying to push away from Joe and the knife Joe was forcing into his hand. Joe finally had to grip Joey’s hand in his to make him hold on.

“Joe, no, don’t!” Claire said to Joe before looking at Joey, her expression changing from rage to love in an instant, “It’s okay,baby! It’s okay." She cried to her son whose face was running with tears and snot. The gag around his mouth wet with it. Mandy looked away, even though she knew it was disappoint Joe. Claire stopped moving suddenly so Mandy looked back expecting to see Joey pulling out the knife, but Joe was still struggling with Joey and there was no blood, something was off. She opened her mouth to say as much when Lecter stepped back releasing Claire who threw her fist at Joe’s neck. 

It all happened so fast it took Mandy a moment to realize what she was seeing as Joe stepped back, a small blade of some kind sticking out of his neck. The look on his face was so different from the look her mother had given her, more anger than fear as he lunged toward Lecter, who pushed him back easily. Mandy went to him, not caring that she’d probably end up with a blade in her back, if Joe was going to die then she wanted go to.

“Joe! Joe!” She could feel panic choking her as her hand went for the blade. Joe grabbing her arm before she could touch the blade. “Joe?” She said as he slumped back and lost his grip on the blade. The light in his eyes was dimming, just like her momma’s had. “Joe?” She had no strength left so she didn’t hold herself back from falling against his chest. She could hear Joe’s breath getting shallower wishing she could just force the air into Joe’s body. Their was warmth against her face as she cradled herself into his arms but she knew it wasn’t her tears. She pulled back to reach for the blade. Joe’s face was slack, his eyes empty all that he was, was gone. A hand wrapping around hers brought caused hope to spark, but the hand wasn’t Joe this time. It was the man who’d help kill Joe, the man that would probably kill her now. She let her hand relax and drop away from the blade, offering her neck to the man. 

The broad smile Lecter gave made her shiver, but he made no move towards her and just pulled the blade, a scalpel, from Joe’s body wipe against his pant’s leg.

“This one’s gone.” The other man said from somewhere behind her. 

Lecter’s attention shifted to the other man. “Perhaps for the best,” He said as he stood. 

Claire and Joey were just inches from Joe’s body hugging and crying as she peeled the tape from his mouth. Mandy could see that Claire was still frightened, but trying to stay calm for the kid. 

“Aren’t you gonna kill me too?” Mandy asked, her lips, her mind, feeling numb. “You wish to join your mentor?” The tall, lean man said as he looked down at her. Claire pulled Joey close as she eyed both men warily. “I...I got no one else.”

Lecter tilted his head in agreement, “No, I suppose you do not.” 

“But you still have you,” The other man said as he came to kneel in front of her, catching her eyes and giving her shy smile before saying, “Do you like dogs?”


	12. Chapter 12

“This can’t be real. This can’t really be happening.” Claire argued to no one in particular. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I can’t believe I let my son go home with a murderer and one of his kidnappers.” The sheriff just gave her a ‘what are you gonna do’ shrug as the boat came to a stop. They had left Emma and Joe’s bodies on the boat as they tugged it out to sea. She hadn’t wanted to take her eyes off of them until she was sure they were both dead and gone, but the sheriff had insisted that it would be easier if she stayed on the sheriff’s boat while they made the voyage out and besides he said Lecter had 'examined' the remains to make sure they were both gone for good. 

She shivered thinking of the small cooler he’d held as he came off the boat after his exam. 

“I’ll get the shotguns ready. You bring in the line,” The sheriff said to his deputy, who began untying the knot that connected the two boats.

She watched as the sheriff and the deputy emptied both barrels into the hull of the ship, just at the water line. Claire watched as the boat started to take on water almost immediately.

“There might be others?” She said to the sheriff as he turned to face her. He just smirked at the woman next to him, who lifted a brow before turning back to watch the boat disappear below the surface of the water. 

He huffed, almost a laugh and said to her, “Let’em come.” 

______________________________________________________________________

The ride back to the docks had been quiet. Norman hated the quiet. Joey’s mom kept looking at the sea while Marion relaxed with a cigarette. Dylan had tried to speak to him, but Norman was still furious that Dylan hadn’t allowed him to see Emma’s body. Of course, Lecter had agreed with Dylan and suggested that Norman should go home with him to ‘await their return.’ 

He had wanted to keep an eye on Joey, but there was no way he was going to leave Dylan to take care of Norman’s mistake on his own. Dylan had him put on the boat’s controls, probably to keep him from concentrating too much on the cargo that they had pulled behind them, but at least he’d been useful.

Marion and Dylan were talking, making a plan for the rest of the evening while they tied off the boat and disembarked. Marion would take Claire Matthews back to her car, escort her to pick up her son and keep watch over them tonight. Ms. Matthews seemed exhausted, but agreed to the plan with a nod as she made her way towards Marion’s cruiser.

“Marion!” Dylan called out, running a few steps to catch up to her, “Thanks for everything today.”

“No problem, Sheriff,” She said sounding more chipper than she should have been after the day they’d had.

“And,” Dylan lowered his voice as he stepped close to Marion. Norman pretended to ignore them, even as he strained to hear their words. If they were planning something....

“And, thanks for last night too,” Dylan said. Norman could hear the smile in Dylan's voice. Norman felt like his stomach had dropped to his feet. Norma was screaming from somewhere and it took all he had to keep himself present.

He turned to Dylan as Marion departed, grateful that she would be out of his space for a while till Norma calmed down. He was so tired and confused that he barely managed to nod his assent when Dylan quietly said, "Let's go home, Norman.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Ouch!” Norman pulled his hand away from Dylan’s grasp. He’d been fighting for control the entire ride home and had almost ceded to Norma’s pushing by the time they came through the front door. She’d always seen the house as her domain, but it was a much Norman’s house as it was hers and he needed to get this conversation done today.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Dylan complained as he pulled Norman’s hand back to continue cleaning and bandaging. “I can do it myself!” 

They were in the parlor. Norman on the sofa while Dylan sat on the coffee table with the first aid kit. “You’re going to bandage yourself up with your left hand?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I’d rather do it right, so you’re hand doesn’t fall off from infection!” Norman watched as Dylan took a long, steady breath and tried again. “I would like to help you, Norman. Can I help you with your hand?”

Now Norman felt like a jerk, “Alright, just be careful.”

“I will,” Dylan brought Norman’s hand close to his face as he dabbed at the cut he’d gotten when he’d driven the blade into Emma. He could feel the hair on his arm stand as Dylan’s warm breath skated across his skin. It was making him uncomfortable and reminded him that being this close to his brother was probably a bad idea.

“I just...” He swallowed, “I thought maybe I could have something normal for once.”

Dylan hesitated, but kept his attention on his work as he cleaned the cuts and scrapes on Norman’s arm and hand. The memory of Dylan’s words to Marion at the docks, thanking her for the night before. Marion was a good person, a normal person, maybe she and Dylan could have something, if Norma wasn’t in the way.

He was afraid, but he had to do this, he had to for both of them. “I think it should stop, Dylan.” He said the words quickly, but clearly. Dylan froze for just a moment and Norman was glad Dylan wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t sure if he’d see relief or hurt in his brother's eyes and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle either emotion at the moment. 

“You talk to Lecter about that?” Dylan’s voice was quiet, but rough as he dropped the cotton ball in his hand to the table and picked up several bandages designed to fit the dips and curves of a hand. 

“I did.” He hated that Dylan put so much trust in the man. He knew it would bite them both in ass someday. 

“What’d he say?” Dylan sounded resigned, but Norman had to be sure he was clear.

“It doesn’t matter what he said. You said that you wouldn’t be with Norma unless I said it was okay. I’m saying it’s not okay anymore.” 

Dylan raised his head at that, fury on face, “That’s not what I’m saying! I would never do that to you! I would never!” Dylan clamped his jaw shut and forced his focus back to the cut as he struggled with a butterfly bandage trying to close to wound. “I’ll tell Norma,” Dylan said after a moment.

Norman opened his mouth to apologize for the fit Norma would throw, but hesitated when he felt a presence in the room. He looked, expecting to see Norma only... only it wasn’t. He blinked, thinking maybe he was looking in a mirror, but that didn’t make sense as the image was sitting to his left in the chair just over Dylan’s shoulder. It was him, but on his worse day. His skin pale and eyes dark. The image smiled at him and he felt a shiver travel up his spine.

“Norman?” Dylan questioned looking behind him to find what had caught Norman’s attention. “Norma here?” He asked.

“Yeah,” He lied easily. Just as easily as Dylan and Lecter and Norma. The image leaned forward. “We need to get rid of that cunt!” It said, voice a harsh whisper, like his when he hadn’t spoken in while or had been sick. “We can’t let her control us anymore, Norman.”

He was calm, calmer than he’d been in days. He had to be calm. If Dylan saw, if he knew that Norman knew....knew there was another. He knew the truth of it as soon as he thought the words. There was another, had been another, another they tried to hide from him.. “You know he’s not my flavor, but I bet he’s got a good mouth on him.” It said leaning back in the chair, palming at his crotch as Dylan looked back and forth between what had to be an empty chair and Norman. He could sense Dylan’s growing concern and knew he needed to say something before Dylan called Lecter.

“She says, ‘It’s not over. Not till she says’,” He tried to look put out as he tried to process what this new, at least new to him, alter was saying, doing as he gave Norman a chilling smile. “I bet he’d suck our cock right now. He’s probably gagging for it!”

Norman felt his hand lift from where Dylan had placed it on his lap after he’d finished with the bandages. He stroked through the fine hair at Dylan’s temple, fighting the urge to fist his hands in it and drag Dylan down to his crotch. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought, remembering everything Norma had shown him -remembering how good Dylan felt. 

“No, Norma, stop!” Dylan pulled away as Norman fought the instinct to hold tighter. If Norma were here she would scream or manipulate to get what she wanted. Norman found most of her behavior disdainful at the best of times, but he could use it to his advantage till he could figure out what else they were hiding from him.

“I got so much to show you, Norman. Just wait to see all the fun you missed out on.” Norman hesitated, maybe he didn’t want to know what the other had been up too. He steeled himself. He was sick of being lied to and misled. If he had to find out the truth on his own, then so be it.

“Dylan, honey. You can’t be serious,” He said running his fingers along a curl and tucking it behind Dylan’s ear just like his Mother used to when he was small. He was glad now that Lecter had asked Norma to make several recordings of herself in an effort to help Norman better understand and accept her. He’d watched them obsessively for months trying to see where she ended and he began. Her the voice and mannerisms came easily to him know. 

Dylan pulled away and stood. “No, Norma, no more!” Dylan took several steps back as he spoke. If Norman hadn’t been so pissed and freaked, he would have appreciated how determined his brother seemed to be to keep his word. “It’s over. You need to stop.”

“Dylan, don’t you walk away from me!” Norman screeched, standing and balling his fists up. It was a classic Norma posture when angry and sure to set Dylan off. “I’m not fighting with you about it. Norman says it’s done. It’s done!” Dylan turned and took off up the stairs. He was confused for a moment -Dylan never ran from a fight, but it had been a long day and he’d apparently had a long night too. 

“We could give that whore of his what she really needs.” The other whispered. If this was how the other thought, how did it act? Norma could be violent, murderously so, but usually in the defense of Norman or Dylan. Except, except the attack on Emma. They had told him it was Norma going off on a jealous rage, but that didn’t fit, not completely, not anymore. 

“I tried to give her something real to choke on, but Mommy didn’t approve.” It said. He didn’t have to look to know there was nothing in the chair now. That the voice wasn’t outside of his head anymore. He could hear Dylan moving upstairs. It heard too and wanted to go find his brother and do something...something bad. It pushed hard trying to come forward but Norman was still in control. He was strong. He could do this. He’d find out what he needed to find out from whoever this alter was but he would be the one staying in control. He had too.

The end..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I finally did get it posted!!! Yay for me! Anywho, I do have other stories planned out for this verse, but I'm not sure if they'll ever be finished. But I had almost given up hope of actually posting this story and it did happen, so maybe..? Anyway, thanks again for reading and if you like the story you know what to do!


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